Veiliant
by Poetique
Summary: “Lily, dear, I see that you are developing more and more each passing day,” he chuckled, noting the V- neck that Lily had placed on herself. She flipped her hair over. “You too, Potter. You’re going to have some nice boobs by the end of the year.”
1. Prologue

**A/N: If it's not JKR's, it's mine.**

**(we don't want Jo taking my credit now, do we?)**

He tossed and turned in his bed. He didn't normally sleep; in fact, he hadn't slept for seventeen- almost- years. But, nonetheless, he didn't mind much, lying peacefully on the rectangular mattress, his socks warm in the cool winter months; his body pressed up against Lily's. She yawned, disturbed by his movement, and rolled out of the bed.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. She shook her head, her dark red hair spilling across her shoulders.

"Remus is here," she said calmly. "It took him awhile in the Between. He wasn't ready."

James nodded silently. No one was ever ready.

He kissed his wife firmly on the lips, and strolled outside of their small apartment. It was sunny out; of course, not exactly sunny, but dimly illuminated by the likings of millions of wizards and witches. He had not ever been this confused since the arrival of Wormtail. Or the arrival of Padfoot.

Padfoot.

Sirius.

_My best friend._

Three years, and he hadn't seen him. He could have, but he didn't. He would not be able to take seeing him again, not in his own peaceful realm inhabited only by Lily and himself. The exception had been Dumbledore, when Dumbledore had come. Other than that, who could he trust?

Lily had met with Sirius, naturally. And Godric. And Salazar. And Amelia and Erin and Gideon. In fact, the only person she ever refused was Snivellus, yet with good reason. James hadn't gone to see any of his friends yet. Not even Sirius.

Lily had to meet with him, she said, because he knew about Harry. She was an avid collector of all things related to Harry; she had collected memories from everyone she possibly could, scavenging the world for any remnants of memory of him. Every week she would meet with Sirius to talk about him- to talk about the son that she never had a chance to know.

James left the room, took a lighter from his pocket, and brought a cigarette to his lips. He hadn't smoked when he was alive, but he enjoyed the familiarity of the warmth over the course of his death.

He walked around aimlessly, vaguely identifying his settings. Dumbledore and Grindlewald's apartment- post confession-, beckoned at him, and he wondered if he should venture again, but then decided against it. Dumbledore was always being bothered. Best he not add.

He walked for a long time, until he reached a fountain. He sat on the edge of it; one hand dipped into the cool water, the other cupping his cigarette gently. Interesting that the things that made him so happy in life were meaningless now.

"James Potter."

James turned around, not in response, but thinking that someone was talking about him, thinking that he wasn't there. When he turned, there was only one set of eyes. Odd. Normally people don't talk to themselves- at least not here. He sighed, blowing a thin ring of smoke. The voice, however, was not satisfied.

"Well, it's about time. I can't have the excuse of being nervous as to if you're okay anymore- what's there to be nervous about?- but one does seem to worry, especially if you've been gone so long, and so alone for who knows how-"

James turned around, facing a squat little woman with raven black hair. Her cheeks were red, lightened with the joy of jabbering on and on, afresh with blood from her bodiless state. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it into the water, leaving a trail of ash.

"Mum," James said quietly.

The woman harrumphed.

"Mum is right. Although what job does a mum do, when her one and only son won't even do so much as bid hello-"

"I've been busy," James growled.

She laughed at that.

"That's not what Lily says. Poor dear, she has every right to worry. You don't get out, you don't joke. What the hell is wrong with you?"

James was taken aback, and he was sure his expression told that. His mother never, ever, cursed- she had brought him up on the principle that even "stupid" was a terrible word, and may Merlin bless those that did not understand. She grabbed his arm fiercely, leading him to a cottage. He didn't object.

Her keys rattled as she opened the door, and she lead James inside the house. He followed in obediently, overwhelmed by the aroma, the scents- _new_ scents- of chocolate croissants and apple pies. How long had he not eaten? A day? A week? Seventeen years? And he instantly felt a pang of guilt- for he knew that Lily had tried to persuade him to eat, purposely sneaking custard pies into his room whenever she possibly could. But no one could cook like his mother- and only his mother's cooking would ever persuade him to eat.

"_Lumos_," James muttered, lighting the room. He was glad he had died with his wand at his side, or else he would have had nothing to channel his magic with in the afterlife. A twitch of excitement overtook him. He wanted Mrs. Potter's cinnamon scones as much as he did when he was a boy getting rewarded for his good marks.

But there were no scones nor pastries nor pies. Just scented candles; unlighted, yet strong. There were four of them in total, all wafting through the air like meringue dancers of scent. Three people sat comfortably on his mother's scarlet rug, each holding one of the candles. The last one was placed in his hands silently. He hadn't even noticed.

He looked up into the faces- not the eyes. Everyone was so old; so tired looking. He gulped, staring intensely into the faces of none other than Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Did it matter now, that everything was already said and done? Did it matter that nothing could be changed? That no hearts could be mended- or broken? A person either has two choices; live in peace, or live alone.

James Potter didn't want to live alone anymore.

And for that moment- that splendid, everlasting moment, the four Marauders were reunited again, and were for all of eternity to remain.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!  
**

**However, how am I ever going to know that if you don't REVIEW? I never share anything with people I know- so this is written specifally for you, so I won't learn and grow upon it if I don't get your feedback! (such big pressure, I know). I realize I didn't explain a lot of things (i.e., How does Lily know that Remus is there?), so if you have any questions feel free to ask in a review! If I get a lot I'll post an FAQ later, and if not I'll answer all questions personally.**

**Happy reading everyone!**


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**A/N: So I've decided to continue this, although I'm not sure how much I'm going to keep it. If I get a lot of people liking it, I will, but if not- sorry. Thank you so much to the reviews I got in the last chapter! I know that it was a long time ago, but I promise to update sooner than that for next time. I only just decided I was going to continue this today, anyways.**

**If you really need a disclaimer, I am honored.**

The Hogwarts Express was leaving.

Well, roaring actually, to be more exact.

The ferocity of the chains pounded into the track, seeming to crush it underneath. A few people flinched, obviously not used to such a strange train storming through King's Cross.

James Potter gazed at the train descending farther and farther away, his mother's frantic screams

of "you're late!" ringing in his pointed ears. He smiled to himself mischievously, pulling a stopwatch out of his pocket. All in perfect time, of course.

The steam from the top of the train enveloped him and all of the other parents; some hugging each other, some crying, some with proud eyes or looks of concern. He tossed the stopwatch into the air and caught it perfectly with four fingers. It was two minutes past time.

But when the train's grey steam began to dissolve, and shrieks erupted from the cracks of the windows, James Potter smiled to himself. The train approached the platform once more, like a boomerang or a homing pigeon. Successful.

The doors opened immediately, a herd of first- year girls piling out and screeching; their high pitched voices a damage to the ears of many. The angry barking of a massive dog was evident in the cause of such a thing, although it was only distant in the background. James smiled to himself. He liked dogs.

"James Potter, what did you do?-"

His mother's face was pink with fury, but he was used to this look by now. Her eyes bugged out at all of the unattractive places, the rusted look of brown grotesque. He debated silently over telling her this, but then decided against it. He didn't want the grand finale to be missed even for a second of his mother's scorn.

"Oh look," he mumbled nonchalantly, as if she hadn't spoken. "Looks like I'll make it there after all."

The herd of first years were followed by a few Slytherins, who wore extremely pale faces- a sickly greenish yellow pallor that looked much more like they had been living as lab rats rather than in the comfort of fellow dark wizards. James snickered to himself, especially when he noticed that the most fragile of the group, no doubtedly Severus, stumbled out. A familiar scent of greasy hair puckered in his nose, and the thought was confirmed.

"Snivellus!" He yelled out, smiling to himself at his perfectly constructed plan. "In two and a half months, you still haven't bathed."

His voice was so loud that the first years, and in fact any other girl, turned around and giggled. Funny _and_ cute? This day might turn out to be good after all.

The Gryffindors, brave knights of the school, marched out of the train last, headed by perfect Prefect Evans. James smiled to himself, watching as her legs moved. The long, toned legs he'd dreamed of for the past two and a half months, in the flesh. She was wearing a perfectly fitted navy skirt, and his eyes hungered for more.

"Lily, dear, I see that you are developing more and more each passing day," he chuckled, noting the V- neck that Lily had placed on herself. The outfit looked good together, smug, yet attractive. She grumbled, shooting him a wretched look.

"You too, Potter. You're going to have some nice boobs by the end of the year." She flipped her hair over her head and walked off to join Snivellus.

James sighed. _That_ was something that wasn't going to change soon.

Sirius came out last, of course, chuckling as he did so. He looked older than he had the last time James had seen him, even if it had only been a week ago. His skin seemed to be more gradient- more refined, in a way. Any boyish tint that would have been quickly faded, leaving the small stubble of a moustache on the brim of his lip.

Sirius joined James excitedly, his face lit up with excitement.

"Well, mate?" His grin stretched across his face. "Was that not the most exciting event of this year?"

James returned an equally lengthy grin.

"Not as exciting as when Lily finally accepts a date with me and professes her true love under the stars," he said, throwing the stopwatch into the air again.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but didn't say any more on the subject.

The other two Marauders joined them afterwards; Remus Lupin, making sure that a small second year Hufflepuff was alright, and Peter Pettigrew, who looked just as grim as the Slytherins. James snickered to himself.

"Wormtail, really?" He raised an eyebrow. The tiny little boy shuddered.

"It barked right at me! And it was going to bite!"

It was Sirius's turn to join in on the laughing.

"Wormtail, mate, that was only me," he said. "Get used to it- every day now, to Hogsmeade!"

The boys rumbled in apparent excitement, each one even more in love with the idea of sneaking out than the next. Remus, on the other hand, was not too fond of this agreement- he didn't want to risk getting in trouble, even if it was just a joke.

"Well, you succeeded in making Timothy Abbott wet his pants," he mumbled at Sirius quietly. "Was biting his arm really necessary?"

James and Sirius sparked another laugh.

"It was more of a nibble," Sirius admitted, stroking his hair back on his head. "And anyway, I had to do my job thoroughly. Stupid Prongs missing the train. As if it isn't the same time _every _year!"

James rolled his eyes.

"What can I say, when you help the blind old lady cross the road, there are just some sacrifices you have to be willing to take."

In a half hour, once all of the inspections had taken place, Professor Corren, the frail little Muggle Studies teacher, stumbled out, her hat pointed on her head. She mumbled that everyone return to the train, and that the dog was obviously a joke played to scare the first years. The Marauders smiled to themselves, and James kissed his mum goodbye.

He stepped on the train quickly, with a feeling of ownership in his step. Hogwarts was his. But more importantly, he and his friends would never be separated.

**A/N: Please review! This will be the story of the Marauder's fifth year at Hogwarts; or so I think it is at least. Thanks!**


End file.
